


Whole

by harryunwin



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-12-09
Updated: 2015-12-09
Packaged: 2018-05-05 21:38:06
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5391311
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/harryunwin/pseuds/harryunwin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Daisy is the most precious thing in the world to Eggsy. It wasn't always like that.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Whole

**Author's Note:**

> For Tilde~ Happy birthday!

On Eggsy’s twenty first birthday, it all seemed to be going too well. His mum was in good spirits, which could be expected on one of his special days, but even Dean wasn’t being too much of a bastard. He bit out a ‘happy birthday’ and let Eggsy watch what he wanted for the morning. When Poodle showed up, even he greeted him with a kind hello and birthday wish. Then the pair of them fucked off, after Dean tossed a few crumpled bills at him. For as cold as that may be, it made for a pretty good morning in Eggsy’s opinion. Michelle made him eggs and bacon for breakfast, gave him a new snapback afterwards. They watched some awful movie together, sprawled on the uncomfortable couch. During the end credits Michelle left the room to answer a phone call.  
“Was just Dean checking up,” she smiled, running a hand through her son’s hair. That was strange. “How about some lunch, then?”

“It’s a bit odd, mum,” Eggsy said, glancing towards the door again. His eyebrows pulled together as he chewed. “He ain’t being that much of a wanker today.”  
“Well, dear, he knows it’s a big day.” Michelle smiled, but this time it seemed tight. Fake. She was avoiding his eyes.  
“What’s so big about it?” Eggsy asked. “Twenty one ain’t shit. A birthday never stopped him from smackin me around anyway.”  
Michelle swallowed noticeably, kept her wooden smile.  
“Why’d ya tell him to be nice to me?”  
“Oh, stop that. Don’t be silly-”  
“And why’d he listen this year?” Eggsy put his fork down, trying to catch his mother’s eyes. She let out a heavy breath and met his gaze.  
“Eggsy, dear. I’ve got something to tell you.” His heart seemed to stop for a moment. He hated those words. The last time he’d heard them, he’d lost a grandparent. The time before that a cat. Before that, years ago now, they had moved in with Dean. It felt like a big, flexing fist had taken hold of his chest.  
“What is it, mum? Are you okay?” Eggsy took her hand and she laughed. He could hear the tears coming soon.  
“Of course I am. We just thought this would be a good time to tell ya….” Michelle sniffed. A smile still worried at her lips. “There’s gonna be someone new with us. Dean and I- ya know.”  
Eggsy shook his head, not understanding. “What- What are ya trying to say, mum?”  
Michelle laughed again. “I’m havin a baby, Eggsy.”  
The fist was squeezing even harder. He didn’t realize that the grip he had on her hand was tightening, and she wouldn’t take it away. His breathing was picking up. Despite all this, Eggsy’s expression didn’t change, frozen by confusion and horror. “... What?”  
Michelle’s smile finally fell. She scanned his face, searching for any sign of happiness at this news. She frowned. Maybe, Michelle hoped, repeating it would help him understand. “I’m pregnant, Eggsy.”  
“Mum,” he managed to choke out, his voice thick with emotion. “How could you?”  
She couldn’t stand to see her son, her sweet Eggsy, looking at her that way. He was so upset- his mouth was screwed, his eyes were reddening, his face read anger and sorrow and such blatant disgust that she wanted to run from the room. She wiped at her eyes. “Eggsy-”  
“I don’t understand, mum, I don’t-” his voice cracked. Eggsy jerked his hands out of hers, as if they suddenly scalded him. “You- You let that bastard knock you up- .... How could you do that? To me? To yourself? To… it?”  
“Eggsy!” Michelle shouted. “I won’t have you talking to me that way!”  
“You were supposed to leave him, mum!” Eggsy’s voice was loud and cracking. “You were supposed to get us out of here and never look back.”  
“I was going to, Eggsy, I promise you, but….” Michelle floundered, at a loss for words. Eggsy could fill her in if need be; but she loved him, but she was mental, but she was having his bastard and ruining Eggsy’s life even more. He loved her too much to say these hurtful things, but they ran circles in his head over and over. Each time it felt like it’d be more satisfying to voice his thoughts. “But I need him.”  
Eggsy felt bile rising in the back of his throat. He pushed his plate away. “You can’t be serious.”  
“I am,” Michelle replied. She was really crying now. “I know you don’t understand it, but I love him, Eggsy, and he provides for us. And… And I can’t leave him now.”  
Eggsy shoved his hands into the pockets of his hoodie, afraid his white-knuckled fists might scare her. And that thought made him more angry- he wouldn’t even have to worry about scaring his mother with his hands if it weren’t for that prick. If Dean wasn’t a bloody abusive bastard. He hit them, he threatened them. He pushed drugs and indulged in alcoholism. He was disgusting, and Eggsy hated him more than anything in the world. The fact that right now, this minute, there was a thing growing in his mother that was half Dean, made him want to throw up.  
Eggsy wanted to tell her that he could provide for her. Hell, she could provide for herself if she hadn’t forced him home from the marines. He wanted to tell her that Dean was nothing but a manipulative fuck that put these awful ideas in her head. And he wanted to yell some more. But he couldn’t bring himself to do it. Eggsy’s voice was little more than a whisper now, “Yes you can, mum.”  
“No, dear, no,” she moaned, trying to reach for a hand again. They stayed in his pockets.  
Eggsy shook his head. It was bad enough that this meant she’d be with Dean, that he’d have to stay with him longer. It pained him to know that Dean was inside her. But that she was bringing another person into the world (this world) made him furious. She was acting like it was completely fine, that this kid would simply be another person for Dean to lay his drunken hands on.  
“Honey, please…. Look on the bright side?” Michelle scrubbed at her eye and straightened up. “You’re going to have a little brother or sister. Isn’t that great?”  
“That ain’t no brother or sister of mine,” Eggsy declared. His heart hurt watching her face crumble again. Even as he said it, he wished he could stop. “I can’t be happy about Dean’s blood. It’ll be half at best.”  
“Eggsy….”  
He could sense another bout of bullshit. More half-assed explanations, more guilt trips and tears. And suddenly, Eggsy couldn’t take it anymore. He didn’t want to be in the same room as his ridiculous, enabling mother, and the leech growing inside of her. He stood abruptly, the chair screeching behind him. He stuffed his new hat on his head and turned for the door.  
“I’ll be with Ryan and Jamal,” Eggsy said. And he was gone before she could say another word.

“That’s fucked, mate,” Jamal repeated, tipping his pint back. It was all he could say at this point; Eggsy had been ranting for nearly an hour, and it didn’t seem like he wanted any solutions.  
“What makes me really sick,” Eggsy growled, “is that she’s actin like I wanted the thing. Me!”  
“Why would a bloke like you want a screamin brat, pissin all over?”  
“Right?” Eggsy gestured towards Ryan exaggeratedly. His grip on the glass was vice-like. “She’s actin like she wants it…. She can’t, can she? She’s fuckin ancient, and she’s not happy, and she’s got more black eyes than healthy father figures around….”  
The boys looked away awkwardly. He’d never talked much about how Dean treated them physically, and neither of them was equipped or sober enough to deal with that conversation.  
“God,” Eggsy scoffed. He was too drunk to care much what his words would mean to Michelle if she heard them. “That fuckin kid…. It’s gonna be a piece of work. Just like Dean, I bet. Ugly like a dog and stupid as a rock.”  
Again, neither of his friends said anything. Lashing out like this was completely outside of his character, and it made them incredibly uncomfortable.  
“Let’s leave this shithole before the prick shows up,” Eggsy suggested, knocking back the last of his drink.

 

Eggsy stumbled through the door at four in the morning. He was impressively intoxicated. But even as the floor seemed to tilt underneath him, he spotted a box on the table. And on top, a note. “Happy birthday Eggsy. Much love, Mum”  
Inside, he found a small cake. It was yellow, and in the center there were delicate icing petals. A sunflower? he asked himself. Whatever it was, he smeared it away with his finger and tasted it. Eggsy found a fork and sat at the table, eating his final present alone.

 

In the following months, Eggsy began speaking with his mother less and less. He would answer her questions, and ask only enough of his own to be seen as polite. When he neared rudeness Dean would threaten him with some sort of violence, which only made Eggsy angier at the entire situation. Still, the very real threat of Dean’s outbursts kept him in his place. For the most part.  
Eggsy found himself involved in more trouble than usual. He was becoming reckless. His friends, the followers that they were, thought it was all great fun. But deep down Eggsy knew he had a problem. He felt as though he had nothing to lose now- not if his mum was going to condemn them both to an eternity of Dean. He didn’t have a job, or a house, or a father, or any real future or purpose. All he had was a pushover of a mum, a stepdick, and a screaming half sibling on its way. He felt as if there was a hole in him now, that a part was missing that he’d never thought to miss before. So what did it matter if he got into bar fights and egged buildings?  
He didn’t find the answer to that question for months.

As his mother grew rounder, tension thickened. Michelle wasn’t a spring chicken anymore; she complained quite a bit about her back, feet, bladder. She was irritable with pain and hormones. More than once she barked back a reply to Dean a little too strongly, resulting in screaming and fighting, threatening. At four months, he smacked her across the cheek with Eggsy sitting right there. He seethed, clenched his fists, envisioned killing the man- but Eggsy didn’t say anything. He always used to say something. Afterwards he was so sick with himself he punched his pillow for an hour.  
At six months, it happened again. And Eggsy made it a point to shove Dean away from his mother. He spat out all sorts of insults and questions- What do you think you’re doing, layin hands on a pregnant lady? How sick are you, hitting the mother of your child? What’s wrong with you?  
Eggsy got a black eye, a busted lip, and kicked out of the apartment. Truthfully he didn’t mind much. It was refreshing to be out of the stuffy little flat. He bunked with Jamal until he had clearly overstayed his welcome, then continued surfing couches. His mum wasn’t in a safe position (he knew that, he knew it better than anyone) but he couldn’t step foot back into that house. For a couple weeks he even shacked up with a girl he’d met at bar, but that ended as explosively as could be expected. He’d been caught with sticky fingers- she’d been caught with wandering hands.

He’d been kicked out by Ryan’s girlfriend again and was strolling down a street he barely knew when his cell rang. Eggsy was confused- he hadn’t charged it since the day before, and he didn’t expect it would be anyone offering up a couple sofa cushions. Perhaps the fact that he barely used the thing while being homeless was a godsend.  
If it were his mother’s number, he probably wouldn’t have answered it. And no emergency in the world could have gotten him to answer for Dean, either. But after enough stints there, Eggsy had saved the hospital’s number into his contacts. He swiped it open, his legs already turning, moving in the direction of the hospital.  
And for the first time in two months he heard his mother’s voice. It was cracking like she had been crying, and she sounded guilty. Probably for letting her son rot on the street, he figured.  
“Mum, what’s up? Are ya alright?”  
“Eggsy- Eggsy, dear, you gotta come to the hospital,” her voice wavered.  
“What happened, mum? Is it Dean? Did something happen to you?” He was moving fast now, nearly running. Rounding a corner, he was hit by a thought that stopped him in his tracks. “Is it the kid?”  
Eggsy hated the thing. He’d pushed the idea around in his head so many times- and came to the conclusion that he didn’t like it. It was half Dean (whenever he imagined it’s little face, he always got an awful imagine of an ugly old bastard shrunk down to infant size), it caused his mother pain constantly, it tore a rift into an already broken family. Eggsy couldn’t care less if something happened. So he didn’t completely understand why the fist of panic had curled around his heart again at that thought in particular. At so late in the pregnancy, however, anything that happened to the baby happened to the mother.  
Michelle sobbed at the question. The noise brought him back to himself, and he kept jogging. Where were all the cabs? “Mum….”  
“No- No, Eggsy,” she struggled to breath evenly. “It’s fine, we’ll make it. But they’re keepin me in bed for a month now. They say they’re gonna cut me open when they’re ready- Eggsy, honey, I’m so sorry. I need you here.”  
Eggsy could feel his heart break. Or maybe, he felt it come together again. That was all he had wanted to hear. “I’m coming, mum.”

He ran for what seemed like ages. Surely cabs had passed by without him noticing. But now Eggsy didn’t seem to care, wanted to feel the sense of purpose and action that running through the streets of London gave him. When eventually he had to stop for a moment and regain his breath, he glanced across the street.  
The shop was brightly coloured, and the window was overrun with vibrant plants. And as he bent, leaning on a bench to stay standing, he thought of all he’d been through since his twenty first birthday. He’d sat by while his mother suffered Dean, her own body, her new child. He’d picked fights with any and everyone. He’d disappointed Michelle, and just about every other person he knew. Why had he done that? He owed everything to that woman. She deserved so much better than him.  
Eggsy didn’t know what he was looking for when he walked into the shop. He didn’t even really have any idea how much flowers cost. But he took out the money he’d earned helping Jamal’s aunt move, and spent nearly all of it on a gift for his mum. He wouldn’t need dinner tonight. It wasn’t nearly enough to apologize for all he’d done, and what he’d no doubt do in the future.  
When Eggsy set his eyes on the arrangement- a bushel with soft yellows, warm oranges, bright reds- he knew it was the one. The biggest flower of the bunch reminded him of that soft, sweet pastel icing he’d eaten alone on the night of his birthday. He spent the last of his money on the bouquet and ran again.

 

It felt strangely good to be back with his mother again. Eggsy was pleasantly surprised to find that Dean wasn’t at the hospital (and equal parts furious, but that was for another day), and even more so when he wasn’t home. He wanted to bring this up and figure out if Dean was the cause of her bedrest, but figured that if he knew the true answer he wouldn’t be able to share a flat with him again. Dean Baker didn’t show his face for another week. Until one day, he walked through the door like nothing had happened.  
Eggsy spent the weeks leading up to his mother’s C-section waiting on her hand and foot. She wasn’t allowed to leave bed for anything other bathroom breaks, and she definitely wasn’t allowed to circle the tiny apartment like she wanted to. He went from living on the streets with no responsibilities to maintaining a small household in a matter of hours. But still, he was relieved that he was with his mum again.

“Eggsy, dear,” Michelle said once again. She was laying in her bed, clad in a nightgown and sloppily done ponytails. “Would ya come here?”  
“One second, mum,” Eggsy hollered. He was crushing a vitamin to mix into her orange juice. She hated swallowing the bloody things, but he’d be damned if she skimped out on her diet now. Even a few days could help. He set the tray on her lap and sat beside her.  
“I just wanted to thank you for all the work you’ve done for me.” Michelle squeezed his hand and began digging into her strawberries. “Ya really stepped up. And I appreciate it, dear.”  
“I just want you to be happy, mum,” Eggsy replied. That much wasn’t a lie- though if she prodded for more, he’d have to try harder.  
“You’ve grown up so much these past few weeks. I can see it in your eyes,” Michelle smiled. “You’ve always been such a sweetheart, just like your father, but it’s been so nice to see how much you care. The baby loves ya for it.”  
Michelle laughed and rubbed her stomach affectionately. Eggsy felt nauseous again, so he didn’t answer. “Your little sibling has gotten so big….”  
“Half sibling,” he interrupted. Eggsy loved his mum to bits, but he still hadn’t warmed to the idea of the Baker kid. “I’m doin this for you. Not the kid.”  
“Eggsy,” Michelle began. “You need to give this baby a chance. Do you understand me? They may be a Baker, but they could be your brother. They have a different father, but they could be your sister.”  
“Havin a different dad isn’t my problem,” Eggsy muttered, defensive. “It’s the father it has that’s got me pissy.”  
“But you’ve gotta deal with the same one now, so ain’t that a good enough reason to stick together?” Michelle met Eggsy’s gaze sincerely. That is, until she was forced to pop another strawberry into her mouth. She’d been craving them like a madman.  
“I’ll make sure the three of us don’t get too much shit from him. But I don’t gotta be happy about it.”

 

That night Dean arrived home reeking of alcohol. Mother and son had still been resting in bed watching a movie when he barged in, grabbing Eggsy by the arm. He was pushed and yelled out of the room, told to go to the store or fuck off to the bar. Eggsy banged his fist against the bedroom door repeatedly, but it wouldn’t budge.  
He didn’t have to press his ear against the door to hear their fighting. The exact details of the argument were muffled, but Eggsy could sense with growing dread the inevitable end to this. He’d seen it too many times. Dean was leaving again. Eggsy sat on the couch and listened, waiting for the sound of a blow that didn’t come. They fought for over an hour, loudly, passionately. Eggsy’s eyelids were drooping by the time the door was flung open. He sprang to his feet.  
Dean grunted as he pushed past him. Eggsy watched as he stomped childishly through the apartment and out the front door.  
“Mum…?” Eggsy asked tentatively. The bedroom door clicked closed. He wanted to open it again, tell her that she shouldn’t be up. He wanted to comfort her and tell her that it was for the best that he was gone. But he knew how this went. Eggsy sat down again and drifted off to the sound of television in the other room.

Dean was still gone when he woke up. Eggsy had started awake in the middle of the night, startled by a dream he couldn’t remember. He tiptoed to the bedroom, easing the door open as quietly as possible. And he breathed a sigh of relief as he spotted his mother, clearly uncomfortable in her sleep but entirely alone.  
“Mum….” Eggsy’s voice was a whisper.  
He slipped into the room silently, kicking off his shoes and climbing into bed beside her. He hadn’t done something like this since he was eight years old, arriving for a bad dream and staying because she was sniffling worse than him. Eggsy loosened the fingers she had wrapped around one of her braids.  
“He’s not coming back, dear,” Michelle breathed sleepily, barely stirring. “Not for a long while.”  
“Okay, mum.” Eggsy watched the rise and fall of her belly, glad to see it safe and regular again. “Go back to sleep. Don’t worry about him.”  
Try as he might, Eggsy couldn’t fall back asleep. Michelle was visibly less stressed by having him near, and that helped, but too many thoughts were running through his head. That bastard had come and upset her, so close to her due date. Not only that, but it seemed like he was going to be scarce for a while now. Each time this happened Dean stayed away for at least a week. The operation was scheduled for three days.  
That fucking asshole.  
Eggsy rolled on his side, staring at the silhouette outline of his mother’s stomach. He still felt a bitter distaste whenever he considered it, but suddenly he was feeling pity for the small thing. It would have to grow up with Dean as its father, always knowing that- at least Eggsy got to remember that biologically he belonged to a selfless war hero or some crap. Dean wouldn’t even be there for its birth. He wouldn’t show, Eggsy knew it. He was too drunk and ignorant and god damn self-absorbed. Eggsy would be the one there, holding Michelle’s hand in recovery. Dean didn’t give a shit about any of them.  
At least they had that in common.

 

“Fuck!” Michelle cursed, body tensing. “This hurts a hell of a lot more than I remember!”  
Eggsy ushered his mother forward by the elbow. He wouldn’t admit it, but he was stressing out. If Dean hadn’t come and ruffled her feathers, she probably would have made it the full three days. Not one. “It’s alright, mum, they’ll get you in right away.”  
Michelle was given a room and left to her own devices for nearly an hour. Eggsy sat at her side, averting his eyes awkwardly whenever a nurse would come to check on her status. He went for ice, listened to her cursing. He felt like he was in over his head. It should be the father here, Eggsy told himself, not him.  
Eventually a doctor arrived and told them that it was time for her to go under the knife. She’d gotten weepy again, encouraged by the pain.  
“Eggsy,” Michelle sobbed, “tell me it’s all gonna be okay.”  
“Of course it will, mum,” Eggsy laughed, choked with emotion.  
“I need the baby to be okay. Nothing can happen. I love em so much, Eggsy.”  
“I know. I promise.” He squeezed her hand. “I swear to you, it’s all gonna be okay.”

 

Eggsy waited in the room for an eternity. It really hit home how delicate the situation was- she had been at a normal birthing age twenty one years ago. And he knew that she would be okay, she was a strong enough person- but her concerns kept nagging at the back of his mind.  
He’d heard somewhere that there could be more complications with older mothers. Eggsy hadn’t actually cared to commit them to memory at the time, but he was sure there were some serious ones. What if something happened to the kid? His mother would be distraught. She might not ever recover, honestly. He could tell she loved that thing so much already. And Dean might not care all that much, but he’d probably slip even deeper into his alcoholism. And, Eggsy realized in a sudden burst of feeling, he’d definitely mourn. Eggsy had spent the last month nurturing his mother and ensuring that the kid had everything it could possibly need to come out healthy. He hadn’t left her side for more than half an hour at a time, and he’d done everything in his power to protect them. This kid was part of his mother. And soon it would be its own person. Eggsy felt conflicted. He didn’t understand his own thoughts- but he knew he wanted the child to come out alright now. Eggsy felt fiercely protective, as he often did when he saw his mum in trouble, but part of it was directed at that little bugger inside her.  
He had plenty of time to reflect. Eventually, the sliver of bitterness he felt whenever thinking about the kid, about Dean’s blood, started to fade away. Recently he had been seeing the kid as more of a part of his mother. Their mother. Sure, Dean contributed a bit, but the git wasn’t even there to shout about in the waiting room. Eggsy had a sneaking suspicion that his half-sibling would also be spending most of its life trying to push Dean away. Sometimes the person you’re stuck with doesn’t have to shape you, he assured himself.

 

The nurses were trying futilely to get Michelle to sign things. She was too busy beaming down at the baby girl to care for the moment. Eggsy watched with a warm feeling in his heart as she grinned, crooned, murmured sweet nothings. The baby had come out perfectly- the surgery went better than expected. Her doctor had even told her that, if she had really wanted, he felt she could have delivered naturally. She’d told him he was mad, and shooed him away so she could coddle her daughter.  
Eggsy chuckled. “C’mon, mum, hand her over. You’ve gotta give her a name, don’t ya?”  
“Okay,” she replied. The nurse giggled. She still wasn’t moving. “Eggsy, dear. Will you hold her?”  
Eggsy hesitated. After all the emotion and fear that day, he wasn’t sure what he would feel. But strangely, the idea wasn’t repulsive anymore. “Yeah.”  
Gently, Michelle placed the child into his arms. He was rigid, having never held something so delicate before, but he made sure to support her in the same way his mother had. She was surprisingly light, he thought.  
And then Eggsy looked at his sister for the first time. She had such wispy, light hair. Her face was wrinkled and red, but it didn’t remind him of anything sinister at all. Her skin looked soft. Her head looked delicate. She was so tiny, and innocent. Eggsy loved her instantly.

He backed into the chair, sitting carefully. She was sleeping quietly, so unlike the other babies in that side of hospital. Her mouth was hanging open peacefully, and it would have made him laugh if he hadn’t been so overwhelmed.  
How could he have been so stupid? He’d spent months being a dick about his mother getting pregnant, irritated that he’d have to spend his life with another Baker. Yet all of a sudden, he found that a lifetime with Dean would be worth it if it meant he could stay with his baby sister.  
Eggsy decided nothing so sweet and pure could ever be Dean-like on the inside. He’d make sure of it. All the things he’d said before- they were so wrong. He’d thought that the child had torn a greater rift in his family, but now he could see that her radiance could do nothing other than bring them together. When he’d started rebelling and losing himself, he’d felt like there was a piece of him missing. And Eggsy thought it was damn cheesy, but this little girl seemed to be filling it.  
Daisy answered all of his questions. Daisy gave him purpose. She was beautiful.  
“What do you think?” Michelle asked. And for a moment, Eggsy thought she was asking about the baby. He shook his head, at a loss for words. Then he took a deep breath and looked up, seeing that she was extending a slip of paper. He read it carefully.  
“Wait, mum- what do you mean?” Eggsy shooked his head again, confused. “What are ya doin?”  
She smiled. Michelle hadn’t changed her name. For years after her husband died, it was too painful to consider giving up that part of him. And then she’d never gotten around to it, never married Dean, never felt the need to go back to her maiden name. She was Michelle Unwin, and that was who she was meant to be.  
“Dean ain’t here. He don’t deserve to give her his name.” Michelle smiled at her son, truly looking up from the child since the first time it had appeared. “And… I think your father would be mighty proud to have this little girl in our family. Whether it’s his blood or not.”  
Eggsy nodded. He didn’t trust his voice, didn’t trust that tears wouldn’t start falling if he kept on about that.

“Daisy,” Eggsy said for the first time. He rather liked how it felt on his tongue. “Daisy Unwin. I like it.”  
“I know ya weren’t thrilled, but she’s one of us now,” Michelle put a hand on his knee. “And I hope you’ll take care of her like you do me.”  
“Aw mum, don’t be that way,” he murmured, voice thick. He smiled down at the tiny bundle in his arms. “I love the little flower. That’s what siblings do, innit?”  
“Half,” she reminded him, looking wistful.  
Eggsy ran his fingertip over her tiny palm. So small, delicate. In her sleep, Daisy’s fist closed around his finger. “Well… Ya know what they say. Two halves make a whole.”


End file.
